


Cinderblock Garden

by winterwaters



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Close Quarters, Conversations, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, I can't stop finding excuses for them to be stuck in the same space, POV Multiple, Reunion Fic, Tumblr Prompt, a lot of damn talking, inspired by a tumblr post
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 01:04:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4000087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterwaters/pseuds/winterwaters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><strong>Based on the Tumblr post:</strong> "It’s the middle of Season 3. Clarke has left Polis by then and Bellamy is out on some kind of mission and gets separated from his group. They haven’t seen or spoken to each other since their goodbye at Camp Jaha about a month ago. They both get abducted by a grounder clan, neither of them aware that they’re about to be thrown into the same place and used as leverage for some kind of deal.</p><p>Then the grounders take the bags off their heads and they find themselves sitting.<br/><em>Right across from each other.</em><br/>And then we get a few episodes of them forced to be in the same space. Unable to be separated. In any way. Whatsoever."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cinderblock Garden

**Author's Note:**

  * For [illgivethattoyou](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=illgivethattoyou).



> I'd reblogged the post here (with my silly tags): http://notmylady.tumblr.com/post/117522137425/ifthestoriesweretrue-illgivethattoyou-okay
> 
> Big thank you to _illgivethattoyou_ for letting me use your post as a story prompt! This was amazing fun. Also, thanks to _ifthestoriesweretrue_ for letting me know about the post in the first place! Title is from the song by All Time Low, which was on repeat as I wrote this. This sort of became a beast, and I tried something new in switching between POVs throughout. Hope you enjoy :)

The first thing Clarke registered when she came to was the hammering at the back of her skull. Wincing, she tried to lift her head. And immediately stopped, as the pounding intensified.

_Okay… no movement for now._

Taking a deep breath, she took stock of her situation. A musty odor filled her senses, thanks to the bag currently over her head. The same bag was responsible for the mostly opaque darkness that surrounded her. Having one sense taken away only heightened the others. The scrape of rope on her skin, the grimy brush of cloth on her neck, the smooth ground beneath her boots. The lack of cold steel normally trapped against her ankle. 

_Damnit._

She'd been searched well, it seemed. Her hands were twisted behind her, firmly tied to the back of the chair she was seated on; her ankles were similarly bound to the chair legs. She began to wriggle against the restraints, grinding her teeth when they wouldn’t budge.

After a few attempts, her shoulders sagged, muscles already burning at the odd angle. How had she gotten here? It had barely been a week since she’d left Polis, and after that she hadn’t been headed in any particular direction, just… _away._

The memories slowly returned. How she’d settled down by her weak fire to keep warm at night, how she’d only had time to realize the snap of twigs wasn’t a dream before a cloth landed over her nose, a sickly sweet scent drifting directly into her nostrils and knocking her out cold. And now she was here. Where ever that was.

It was only then that she registered harsh breathing just a few paces away. Clarke froze, her body on high alert. 

She wasn’t alone.

Before she could think to act on it, a loud _bang_ made her head snap sideways. She swore under her breath as her skull ached more fiercely in protest. Heavy, brisk footsteps sounded - four pairs, if she counted right. One of her captors stopped directly at her chair. She could only assume the other two were with the other occupant of the room. She was suddenly desperate to know who that could be.

“So you are awake.” 

A heavy hand landed on her shoulders. The touch didn't match the distant voice. She immediately tried to shrug it off. Her mouth felt dry as dust, but she felt no need to respond to them if they weren’t even going to take the bag off her head. A struggle sounded across from her, but she knew it was in vain. Then a hard slap echoed, leaving the room cloaked in silence. 

The female voice continued, unfazed. “You should get to know one another. This will be your quarters for the foreseeable future.”

Clarke snorted, hearing a similar noise from the other person. It almost made her want to smile. Whoever it was, they wanted to be here as much as she did - that is, not at all. If anything, she could hope to rely on that.

Without warning, the bag was removed from her head. She blinked, shaking hair from her eyes and trying to let her vision adjust. Then she realized who was across from her.

 _Oh my god._

All the breath left her in a rush, her muscles suddenly straining to be free once more. Tears pricked her eyes as she took in his state, unable to focus on just one thing.

He was disheveled all over, his clothing dusty and ripped in a few spots. Unlike her, they'd left him in his worn-out black jacket. The sight of that alone nearly sent her heart into a frenzy. Dried blood peeked out from his collar, and his tan skin was purpling in far too many areas. Clearly, he’d put up one hell of a fight. Not that she would have expected any less from her hotheaded, fearless, beloved co-leader.

He was looking back in similar shock. Neither of them paid any attention to their captors, who left without a word, the door clanging shut behind them. Clarke felt something strange rise in her throat; whether it was a sob, a scolding, or both, she couldn’t quite tell. After several attempts, her mouth managed to form a single word.

“Bellamy?”

~~~~~~~~~

“Clarke,” he breathed.

His jaw dumbly hanging open, he stared at the girl in front of him. The same girl who’d invaded his heart without permission, and subsequently taken it with her when she left a month ago. 

Gone were the thick blonde ropes that he remembered; her hair just brushed her shoulders now. It hung uneven and wavy, like a remnant of a hack job she’d probably tried to give herself that was finally growing out. Those blue eyes burned fiercely, shining just as brightly as they had on the day she’d left… 

_No._ He was not thinking about that. What was important was the now. She’d lost her Grounder garments, back to that simple shirt and jeans that molded to her frame and made him wonder if she’d been eating properly. A curved red scrape marred her cheekbone. The flash of anger in his bones was startling, but only so much. _Which one of you fuckers am I gonna have to find and--_

He closed his eyes against the onslaught of emotions. How dare she? How dare she waltz back into his life looking at him like he’s her first breath of fresh air? Did she even know, what the past thirty days had been like? No, because she hadn’t been there, because she’d _left--_

_Because you let her go,_ his heart reminded him.

Jesus Christ. He was sitting in a room with Clarke Griffin for the first time in a month, and he’d just wasted several minutes arguing with himself.

“Bellamy?” Clarke’s voice sounded scratchy, and a hell of a lot more uncertain this time.

He opened his eyes, tried to calm every cell in his body that was clamoring for her. “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said lightly.

She shrugged, then frowned as the motion tugged at her bound wrists. Bellamy’s temper flared again. Oh, they had better hope he never got his hands on them… 

“I look better than you,” Clarke finally replied. He choked out a small laugh, and was given a shaky smile in response. Even that tiny upward turn of her lips sent his heart into a tizzy. _A tizzy? Who the fuck am I?_

Then Clarke said, “They hurt you,” and the slight growl in her voice didn’t go unnoticed by him, and fuck, her eyes were doing that _thing_ now where they scanned him like a damn x-ray as if to seek out each and every weak spot. Little did she know, she only had to look in a mirror to find that.

“I’ll live,” he croaked. Seriously, these people had to have water. “You alright?” He nodded at her cheek, or tried to at least.

She seemed to understand, her gaze softening. “Yeah. I’m alright,” she said, and it sounded like she was answering a whole other question entirely.

He didn’t really know what came next, so when the door opened he almost sighed in relief. Four guards stood by the door, parting to allow two women past. Without preamble, they each took a knife from their belt. Bellamy stiffened, seeing Clarke do the same. They came to her chair first, and his nails dug into his palm, chair scraping on the floor as he struggled.

_No no no this is not happening--_

Distressed, it took him a few seconds to realize - one was holding a knife to the bindings at Clarke’s feet. The other was just there to make sure she didn’t try anything. When her legs were free, they hauled her to her feet and sat her down in a corner of the room. 

Clarke caught his eye, giving the tiniest shake of her head. _Don’t do anything stupid._

He had to give it to her. Even now, she knew what he was thinking. Which was why he was grinning faintly when they cut his ties as well, not even waiting for their help before he strode over and plopped down right next to Clarke. Okay, so maybe he sat down a little too close, his left now flush against her right, but whatever, after _thirty days,_ he figured it was allowed. She appeared amused, but didn’t seem to mind otherwise.

When they were alone again, he decided to focus on a safer topic for now. “So where’d they grab you?” 

“West of Polis,” she said glumly. He let out a low whistle.

“Grounder central.”

“Yeah.” When she didn’t elaborate, he glanced down to find her chewing her bottom lip. He recognized her nervousness in an instant. Gently, he nudged her. After another long moment, she sighed and stared at her lap. “I had an invitation. Figured it couldn’t hurt to see what it was all about. Though, I suppose I underestimated how well I’d blend in.”

He chuckled at how put out she looked by it. “Is that what led you to chop off your hair?”

“No, I did that well before I got there. I just… it was starting to feel too heavy. The weight of it…” she trailed off again, but this time he let her. Finally, she shifted so she was facing him, her eyes blatantly roaming his face. He kinda liked that. She wrinkled her nose adorably. “Your hair’s different too.” 

He nodded. “Octavia tried to give me a trim. _Tried_ being the operative word,” he added grumpily.

“Well it looks good,” Clarke declared, then stopped, lips parted. Pink swept through her cheeks in a hurry, and damn if the sight of Clarke Griffin _blushing_ wasn’t doing all sorts of things to him.

“So, uh…” she cleared her throat, and he grinned wildly as she scrambled to move on. “How- how is Octavia? And everyone?” She seemed hesitant all of a sudden, and he wanted to reassure her not to be.

“O’s alright. Better than I expected, honestly. She and Lincoln have sort of taken Jasper under their wing. He’s- he’s improving. Takes it day by day, you know?” At Clarke’s sad nod, he couldn’t help but lean forward a bit. “Clarke, he’s alive. He has the chance to keep going. We all do.” He wished his hands were free so he could hold her, give her comfort through touch. For now, his words would have to do. 

“What else, let’s see… Monty’s been hanging out with Wick a little too much, if you ask me, but Raven keeps them both in line. She’s a firecracker, per usual.”

She nodded. “And mom? Was she…?”

“Pissed? Yeah.” He gave a rueful chuckle. “Nothing I haven’t seen before. Kane was a big help, actually. He continues to surprise me. They’ve eased up a bit since. They agreed to share Chancellor duties for now, and she’s still in medical more often than not. And Miller and Harper…”

He went on like that for a while, just _talking,_ about everything and nothing, until Clarke nudged his leg with her own. “And you?” She asked quietly.

He offered a wry grin. “I’m a work in progress, same as always.” 

“Bellamy,” she sighed, but a smile was trying to work its way onto her face.

“I mean it. I’m alright. I have my good days and bad days, like anyone else.” After a second, he added, “Kane reinstated me as a guard.”

She straightened, her face lighting up. “Really? That’s wonderful!”

“It has been nice,” he admitted. Before he could ask more about her, she interrupted again.

“Wait. How’d you even get taken then? Did they come to camp?” 

He grunted and shook his head, still irritated at the thought. “Idiots found me just a good five days from there. I was on my way back from a trip up north, visiting another tribe to deliver Kane’s terms for a truce.”

“Playing messenger? That’s so unlike you,” Clarke’s grin brightened up the whole room.

“I know. I just needed a break from everything. It was kind of nice to get away for a bit.” He paused. “We all need it sometimes. O and I have made it a point to drag the others out when it all gets to be too much.” 

“That I can understand. It’s good that they have you two,” Clarke murmured. Then her smile turned almost cheeky, and he had to remind himself that kissing her was not on the table… yet. “By the way, I did meet someone in Polis who _also_ knew you quite well.”

What? Puzzled, he scrunched his brow in thought. Just as the realization hit him, Clarke added, “Her name was Echo.”

~~~~~~~~

Clarke was trying very hard not to laugh at the sudden apprehension on Bellamy’s face. When he stammered for a full minute without getting any words out, she finally let herself giggle.

“I can see why you like her. She’s fearsome,” she said, trying to keep her voice light.

That seemed to be what snapped him out of it. “I don’t _like_ her,” Bellamy protested, and then backtracked. “I mean, I do, but not, you know… not like that.” The fact that he felt the need to clarify made her face heat up. “She was an ally inside the mountain. And a strong fighter, if she’d been given the chance.”

“I know,” she replied. “She told me how you met. And that she stopped by camp not long after?”

He nodded, still looking a bit worried. “There’s unrest among the clans now that Mount Weather is out of the picture. The Commander’s having trouble holding everyone together on her own.”

Though he’d used the formal title on purpose, Clarke couldn’t help the resentment that swept through her all the same. She didn’t bother hiding it. Not with him. As always, Bellamy understood. 

“Apparently not everyone agreed with her decision during the battle either,” he said softly. “That’s what Echo and the others came by to tell us, on their way to Polis.”

She’d intended to say something of equal significance, or at least equal intelligence, but what came out was, “She’s very taken by you.” When Bellamy blinked, tilting his head curiously, she inwardly cursed and plowed forward. “She spoke very highly of your skills. Grounders don’t often do so unless they mean it.” 

Bellamy did smile then, but it wasn’t cocky like she’d expected; more so like he’d just discovered something new. She wondered what exactly she’d given away.

“Her group could be valuable, if it comes to that,” was all he said. 

Suddenly feeling shy, Clarke looked down at her lap, not knowing why she was so happy to hear that.

Their captors chose that moment to re-enter, the same as before. Two women inside, four guards in the doorway. Her heart leapt when they undid the bindings on their wrists - then sank when they immediately retied them, this time in front. Bowls were set in front of each of them, one with water and one with some type of stew. Clarke traded a look with Bellamy, then reached for the water, slurping it down her parched throat gratefully. He did the same. But they didn’t immediately take the second bowl.

“The food is not meant to harm you. Your purpose here is not to be starved.”

They both looked up at the woman who’d spoken, most of her scraggly dark hair swept under a headscarf. Bellamy was the first to nod, though he then asked, “What is our purpose, exactly?”

That got them only a secretive smile. He shrugged in Clarke’s direction - _worth a shot_ \- before downing the food next. Her own stomach rumbled, causing her to follow suit. When they’d finished, the women reached for their bindings again.

“Wait,” Clarke requested quickly. “Can you- can you please leave them like this? It’s much more comfortable. We won’t try anything. Obviously. We’re not trying to get killed.” They hesitated, exchanging a look of their own. “Please,” she asked again. “Look, you said it yourself, you won’t starve us or hurt us. And we trusted that. Now you should trust us.”

After a long moment, the two nodded and rose, taking the empty containers from the room. Clarke sighed in relief and rested back against the wall, only to find Bellamy watching her with a soft smile.

“What?” She said curiously. 

“Nothing, just… glad to see some things haven’t changed.” 

She stared for a minute, then ducked her head. The look on his face was doing things to her that she hadn’t thought possible any more.

~~~~~~~~

They kept track of time based on their captors’ coming and going. Clarke wasn’t sure when she fell asleep, only that her head had drooped to Bellamy’s shoulder and she hadn’t really wanted to move it after that.

It was his shaking that woke her up. Her eyelids fluttered rapidly, trying to adjust to the darkness. Bellamy’s breaths came harshly, his hands fighting the restraints so hard she knew they’d chafe in the morning. Cursing her own bindings, she tried to press as close to him as possible, curling her fingers into his shirt collar. “Bellamy,” she whispered. His eyes remained shut tight. “Bellamy,” she said, louder. “Wake up. It’s a dream. Wake up, Bellamy.”

She leaned away just as he jerked awake, narrowly avoiding knocking their foreheads together. “Sshh, it’s okay,” she murmured soothingly. “You’re okay.”

His chest heaved for a few moments longer, a shudder. “I see their faces,” he said roughly.

Her heart broke a little more. “I know.” Not knowing what else to say, she let her instincts guide her instead.

Hesitantly, she raised her tied hands over his head, resting them behind his neck. Then she brought his head to her shoulder. There was the briefest moment of resistance before he gave in, his body losing its stiff posture and sagging against her. She carded her fingers through the unruly curls at his nape and listened to his breathing even out. _I'm sorry._

"For what?"

She jumped, unaware that she'd spoken aloud. "I don't know," she finally whispered. She wasn’t sure if either of them would fall asleep again, but it appeared they both did.

In the morning, she woke in the same position, her arms aching a little but mostly just overwhelmed by Bellamy’s proximity. His hair tickled her chin, and where his head was tucked into the crook of her neck she felt his breaths warm her skin. Frankly, it was something she could get used to - though she’d prefer it if next time he didn’t have to be dreaming for it to happen.

Ever so carefully, she turned so that her lips brushed over his hair for a split second. That didn’t count as a kiss, right?

Whatever it was, it made Bellamy sigh and snuggle closer, a fact that left her smiling foolishly into his dark curls for far too long. She felt it when he woke, how his breath shifted and stuttered. He immediately tried to pull back, then realized he couldn’t because of her arms. 

“It’s okay,” she said softly.

She’d meant to be reassuring, not wanting him to tense up, so she was surprised when Bellamy lifted his head enough to smile crookedly at her. “I know,” he said, and for some reason she blushed. His grin widened. Then he said, “My neck, though,” and she figured out that the position probably wasn’t as comfortable for him as it was for her. Which… she’d just given away.

“Sorry,” she said meekly, and removed her arms, trying to hide her reluctance. He still took an awful long time to sit up, and she could have sworn his nose brushed the hollow of her neck before he stretched to his full height.

Peeking up, she saw the shadow flit over his face again, and knew he was remembering the night’s events. Tentatively, she said, “I see their faces in the daytime, too.”

Bellamy’s hands grasped hers. After a while he said, "You don't have to apologize to me. For anything." She swallowed. When he didn’t move, she laid her head on his shoulder and heard his weary sigh. It sounded like acceptance and understanding all in one, and she clutched his hand a little more tightly. His cheek rested atop her hair seconds later. 

They stayed that way long into the morning.

~~~~~~~~

The women came and went two more times - once, to take each of them to relieve their bladders, for which they were both thankful. Their second visit brought more stew, and even a hard slab of bread. After they left, Bellamy watched Clarke out of the corner of his eye. She was studying the small room now, her forehead creased in thought. He had to stifle another grin, knowing from experience just how quickly her mind was working. _God, I missed you._

Eventually he asked, “So what do you think they’re holding us for?” 

“Best guess?” Clarke shrugged, stretching her legs out with a sigh. “Leverage, of some sort. They want something, and we’re their bargaining chips. _Chip,”_ she corrected, almost to herself.

“Come again?” He asked.

Clarke bit her lip, as if she hadn’t meant to say it out loud, then met his gaze. “We’re in this together. They get both of us, or neither.”

The words made him smile widely. Not that he’d ever intended to leave her behind - hell, if he had it his way, he was going to be her fucking shadow from now on - but still, it was nice to hear it directly from her mouth that she wasn’t going anywhere either.

“Package deal,” he agreed, and she smiled back, clearly relieved. Okay, he was _thisclose_ to kissing her now. 

~~~~~~~~

Clarke had just been ready to drift off when a commotion sounded in the hall. Looking up, she found Bellamy’s hard gaze on the door, his body coiled and tense like a spring ready to unload at any moment. For some reason, she had the urge to shield him, not realizing it was her who probably should have had her hackles raised. 

Moments later, the door opened and Lexa strode in. 

Clarke’s breath caught in her throat; her nails dug into her palm. As always, Lexa stood tall and regal, the black paint decorating her eyes like a mask against the world. She was still so strong, so beautiful - she had still betrayed her. By her side, Bellamy’s head thudded against the wall, like he knew he was done for. Clarke refused to move, not offering the customary greeting.

“What are you doing here?” Keeping the tremor from her voice was no small task, but she was determined not to fold in front of the other girl.

“Freeing you. Your captives have-”

“Just me?” Clarke interrupted. Her head swiveled between Lexa and Bellamy, whose face remained carefully blank aside from a muscle ticking in his jaw. _He expected this,_ she realized, and it made her that much angrier. When Lexa didn’t reply, she sat up straight and defiant.

“Unless you plan to take Bellamy too, you may as well go.”

Lexa’s eyes flashed. “It has been decided-”

“It must suck when things don’t go as planned,” Clarke snapped back. _“I said,_ I’m not going. And if you dare try to make me, I’ll make life hell for every Grounder I ever meet. Your choice.”

One of Lexa’s guards stepped forward, apparently not liking the threat in her voice, which only made Bellamy growl warningly under his breath. Lexa held up a hand, her dark eyes piercing Clarke for a long moment. She stared right back, letting her see the skepticism and anger that had taken the place of what was once blind optimism.

Without a word, Lexa turned and left. Clarke looked at the spot where she’d been standing for a moment longer, then studied her lap instead, hot tears pricking her eyes. 

“Lover’s quarrel?” Bellamy asked quietly. Her head snapped up. Was that bitterness she’d detected? No… no, it couldn’t be.

“We weren’t-” she halted, then let her head thud back against the wall. “It wasn’t like that.”

“But you wanted it to be.” It wasn’t a question.

She closed her eyes; it was easier to answer without looking directly at him, at that open expression that made her want to say things she didn’t even know herself. “I wanted our friends back.” _I wanted_ you _back._ “I couldn’t think about anything else until that was done.”

“She still cares about you, you know.” Bellamy’s voice was carefully unassuming, but she could feel his eyes on her, checking for a reaction.

Not knowing what to do with that, she answered with her own question. “How do you know?”

He snorted. “The Commander’s not as mysterious as she tries to be. Not around you. Anyone can see it, Clarke. Why else do you think our captors went directly to her? They knew she’d come for you.”

She sighed and twisted her fingers in her lap. “Even if that’s true, it’s hard to know what to do with it, after everything. The one thing that matters most to me is my people, and she sold them out for her own. I can’t say I don’t understand, but after what we did… after what _I_ did in the name of an alliance… what was the point? It was all for nothing, Bellamy.”

She didn’t realize there were tears on her cheeks until Bellamy scooted closer, taking her hands in his and linking their fingers together. She returned his grip with equal force, turning her face into his shoulder.

~~~~~~~~

Bellamy was fuming. 

Lexa had walked in and turned Clarke inside out with one fucking look. He hated how she did that - strode around like she owned every damn thing, including Clarke’s heart.

_Not so fast, Commander,_ he thought smugly, then immediately berated himself for being so childish. This was a relationship that had nothing to do with him; except for the fact that he was head over heels for one of the participants.

But right now Clarke had her head on his shoulder, struggling to keep her shit together like always. This time, he was determined to give her an overdue moment of peace. He needed her to hear it out loud, to hear what she wouldn’t let herself understand when she left him standing at the gates a month ago.

“Clarke,” he said softly, “can you imagine what would have happened if we went to war with the Grounders? Forget our people in the mountain. There’d be no one left in camp. We wouldn’t have stood a chance against their numbers.” His thumb stroked over her wrist, pausing at her pulse. “What you did… it wasn’t for nothing. ”

A slight sniffle reached his ears. He leaned down, trying to get through to her. “I’m not going to tell you not to feel guilty, and I’m not going to tell you it gets easier. We both know our actions have had consequences ever since we stepped foot on the ground. Those demons are going to follow us, Clarke. There’s no way around that. But you know what’s also true? You saved us, time and time again. We’re all here because of you.”

“Bellamy-”

“I need you,” he said softly. Clarke sucked in a breath. She was shaking her head as she tried to pull away, but Bellamy refused to let go of her hands, his eyes finally catching hers, and holding. “I need you, okay?” It was louder, steadier this time.

“I think you hit your head,” she whispered.

He smiled despite himself. “So when you say you need me it’s true, but when I say it back I must be wrong in the head? That’s just rude, princess.”

Clarke let out a sound that was half-sob, half-laugh. “I’m not a princess. I’m a monster.”

“Clarke, no.” His heart ached for her, at how much she believed that. It was so wrong that the same words he’d once said to her were now coming out of her mouth. Of all people, she didn't deserve this. Quietly, he said, “You’ve made hard choices, the worst anyone could ever have to make. But you also kept our people alive. You kept _me_ alive.”

“You didn’t seem so certain on the way back to Camp Jaha.”

He winced. Of course he’d been upset when he first heard. How could he have not been? But it wasn’t for the reason she thought. “Listen… I was pissed off before, I won’t deny it, _but,_ ” he laid a finger against her lips as they opened, “it’s not because I thought it was the wrong choice. Make no mistake, if the roles had been reversed, I would have done the same thing at Tondc.”

That, at least, seemed to have some effect on her. “Then why-?”

“Clarke. What upset me was… I didn’t think _I_ was worth making that decision for.”

Her hand crept up to bunch tightly in his shirt. “How could you think that?” Clarke whispered. “You know by now… you’re not just… we…” She swallowed. “I need you too. You know I do.”

“Then don’t run again. Please. I’m asking you. _Stay.”_

When more tears rolled down her cheeks, he lifted his hand to wipe them away. It seemed to break something inside of her, because then she fell forward, burying her face into his jacket. With a sigh, Bellamy lifted his bound arms until they cradled her, brushing a hand over her hair when he felt her begin to shake. Wetness leaked from her eyes and onto his neck as the tears wracked her frame, but he only held her tighter.

When she’d left, there had been no doubt in his mind that she needed to grieve alone - for Finn, for the village, for their people. For herself. But right now, she was coming undone in front of him, _with_ him, allowing him where she wouldn’t let anyone else, and for that he swore he was never letting her go again, no matter what.

So when she began to gasp apologies into his skin, he shushed her words and rubbed soothing circles on her back, murmuring things he hoped she wouldn’t remember into her ear, hoping at least his voice would give her something to hold on to. Eventually, the sobs turned to hiccups, and her chest slowed its frantic heaving. The occasional shudder still ran through her body. She seemed unable to let go of where her hands clutched his jacket. Not that he would have let her anyways.

It was a while later when Clarke began to shift in his arms. He had hoped she might fall asleep, but clearly not. Still, he mumbled a protest, and thought maybe her mouth curved against his chest. Bellamy opened his eyes to see for himself and found her looking back at him, the faintest hint of a smile on her face. Her eyes were clear again, still haunted - everyone was, nowadays - but also filled with a quiet, familiar strength that lifted his heart.

~~~~~~~~

Clarke looked up at Bellamy for a long time, searching his face and finding only an unwavering trust reflected back. She felt drained and raw and exhausted, and yet, somehow, not dragged down by the weight of everything. Was this what it was like, then, to share all of yourself with another person and still have them remain when it was over? 

She didn’t speak until she was sure the tears wouldn’t return. “I don’t know how you do it,” she murmured.

“What’s that?”

“Have so much faith in me.”

She felt his smile as his lips touched her forehead. “Who, if not you?” His voice lowered. “I meant what I said before, Clarke. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“I know you did. I always knew that. I just… I didn’t want to put that on you. I thought it’d be easier if I just let everyone get back to their lives.”

Bellamy smiled sadly. “For someone so smart, that was an astonishingly dumb call.”

A surprised laugh emerged from her throat, and she rested her head on his shoulder again. “Honestly I was kind of expecting you to be more pissed off.”

“I was, when I first saw you,” he admitted, then chuckled. “For all of three seconds. And then I realized I was so damn glad you were alive that the rest… the rest is just details.”

The words tumbled around in her heart for a while after that.

~~~~~~~~

It didn’t take long for their captors to storm back in, apparently pretty pissed off at having their plans messed up. _That’s what you get when you mess with my princess._ He was on his feet the same time as Clarke, and for a moment they stood on opposite ends, their backs against the wall and the guards in the doorway.

“The Commander has left,” barked one of them, then sputtered several more words in a dialect unfamiliar to him. He could only guess he was cursing them rather vehemently.

Finally, the women stepped forward. The same one who’d reassured them about the food now wore a puzzled look, like she couldn’t understand what had happened. “Why would you refuse this offer?” She asked. 

Before they could answer, the same guard spoke up again. _”Heda_ was made a fool. She will never consider our request again. You have ruined--” 

“Then maybe you should’ve thought twice before kidnapping _two_ of us and only negotiating for one,” Clarke snarled, and damn if that didn’t have his blood boiling for all the wrong reasons. 

The guard began heading for Clarke, but Bellamy was already moving. He plowed into the man’s side with no finesse, simply hellbent on taking him to the ground before he touched her. Unfortunately, with his hands tied, there was only so much he could do. Roughly, he was yanked off, his head knocking against the floor, and amid the yells a swift kick was delivered to his stomach. For a moment, he saw stars.

 _”Stop!”_ Clarke’s voice rang out in the din, sharp and furious - and scared, he realized. When they all looked at her, she pointed directly at him. “You touch him again, and you’ll regret it,” she said, quiet but certain. “That is a promise from Skaikru.”

The men and women all exchanged glances, weighing the promise in her words. Clarke stood defiantly, chin held high, but only he could see the glimmer in her eyes and the faintest tremble of her finger that gave away her concern. Then he was hauled to his feet and shoved in her direction. She put both hands on his chest to steady him, stumbling a little before regaining her footing.

Over his shoulder, she glared at the others. “Next time you want to make a deal, make sure it’s for two,” she spat.

Her hands shook where they clutched his shirt, and he covered them with his own, still working on forcing air back into his lungs. Neither of them moved when the door slammed shut. 

“You’re an idiot,” Clarke said abruptly. Bellamy’s eyes flew open. “I don’t need you to protect me,” she added. He opened his mouth to argue, only to freeze in renewed shock when her lips touched his, careful but one hundred percent willing. _Holy shit holy shit do something--_ Before he could properly respond in kind, she’d pulled back. “But it’s sweet of you to try anyways.”

Still stunned, his mouth hung open dumbly as she urged him to sit again, crawling between his knees to tilt his face one way, then the other, checking for injury. When her hands went to the hem of his shirt, he somewhat regained his wits and choked out, “Wait- what-”

Clarke lifted an amused eyebrow. “I need to make sure they didn’t crack a rib or something. That was one hell of a kick.”

“Oh. Right,” he said weakly. Her mouth curved briefly before she continued, fingers gently pressing over his abdomen, but all Bellamy could focus on was the smidgen of pink on her cheeks that told him she was just as affected as he was.

~~~~~~~

When she was satisfied Bellamy didn’t have any internal injuries, Clarke sat back against the wall, knees hugged to her chest. Her lips were still tingling with the memory of the kiss, hasty and unplanned as that had been. Bellamy’s mouth was impossibly soft, more than it had any right to be, and he’d tasted faintly spicy from the stew they’d been eating for each meal.

At first, there had been several moments of frozen shock on his part, but just as she’d pulled away his hands had slid to cup her cheeks, his mouth trying to follow hers as if to make up for lost time. And god, did she want to let him, but the memory of him lying crumpled on the floor was firmly imprinted in her mind, and she desperately needed to check for herself that he was okay.

She wasn’t sure what exactly had made her do it. She’d just been so terrified when he launched himself at the burly guard like the protective idiot he was - in hindsight, she should have seen it coming. Still, she'd been half expecting them to drag him out or kill him on the spot. The thought had filled her with a fresh sort of panic that wasn't going to fade any time soon. All she knew was in that moment, she’d vowed not to be separated from him again.

Sighing tiredly, she dropped her head to her knees. It was a given that Bellamy was gearing up to say something about it. He always knew where her mind was, sometimes even before she knew herself. But she didn’t look up, not even when footsteps crunched on the ground, not when their captors walked in and set water in front of them before leaving again. Apparently withholding food was to be their punishment. She didn’t really care. She wasn’t particularly hungry… for food, at least.

Then Bellamy pulled his legs up in a mirror of her pose, draping his arms over them. They sat in silence as she attempted and failed to get her thoughts in order.

Finally, in a small voice very unlike her own, she said, “I’m sorry I did that.” She felt him turn to look at her, but her eyes remained firmly glued to the floor.

“Why?” He asked eventually.

She shrugged. “I… I don’t know what came over me, I just-”

“No, not that,” Bellamy interrupted. “ Why are you sorry?”

Now her eyes did fly up, meeting his heavy gaze. Her mouth opened to reply only to find she didn’t have any words. A minute later, she swallowed and looked away again.

“Clarke,” he sighed. “Let’s get one thing straight. _I’m_ not sorry about it at all. In fact, I wouldn’t object to a do-over.”

Clarke’s face warmed despite everything. Her mouth desperately tried to lift at the corners but she bit the inside of her cheek instead. “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” she said softly. “I wasn’t supposed to…”

“To what?” He prompted, just as quiet.

_I wasn’t supposed to fall for you._

“I shouldn’t have been so impulsive,” she said instead. “We have enough to deal with as it is.”

Bellamy scoffed. “Since when has that stopped you before? You’re Clarke freaking Griffin.” The barest hint of a smile appeared on her face before she quickly squashed it. “Besides,” Bellamy continued, “I don’t think that’s what’s really bothering you.”

“Right, because you know me so well,” she said dryly.

“But I do,” he said, unfazed. “Just like you know me.”

Clarke let her head tip back against the wall, eyes drifting shut. He was right, of course. It didn’t mean she had to like it. “How are you so calm about all of this?” She asked. “I _kissed_ you.”

Her eyes didn't need to be open for her to know Bellamy was grinning. She smacked his shoulder lightly. “Seriously. How?” She asked again.

Bellamy took a few moments to respond. “I guess I’ve just had a lot of time to think about it. About how I feel. At first I didn’t really know what to do at all. I figured it was just a phase, that I’d get over it. But after you left, well… that theory pretty much went to hell.”

She opened her eyes in time to see the rueful grin flash across his face.

He continued thoughtfully. “As time went on it sort of just settled in, and I realized I was okay with it. Much more than okay.” The warmth in his voice made her heart ache with longing. Bellamy looked over at her, hesitant. “Have you thought about it at all?”

“Of course I have,” she snapped, and his grin widened to a full-fledged smile that made her stomach flutter. Clarke didn’t say any more until he nudged her, a question in his eyes. She sighed uncertainly. “I don’t know what to do either. My brain doesn’t seem to understand logic when it comes to you.”

“Terrifying, isn’t it?”

“The worst,” she grumbled, and he laughed softly.

“Welcome to my world, princess.” Bellamy paused. “So why are you trying to apologize for something we both want?”

“I don’t know.” Her fingers pressed against her temple. “It just doesn’t seem wise-”

“I think _wise_ flew out the window a long time ago.” He raised an eyebrow expectantly. “What’s the real reason?”

Clarke tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “I’m so scared,” she finally whispered.

“Of what?”

“Of… how _much_ I need you. I didn’t think… I didn’t know it was possible to feel like this.”

Bellamy’s voice was careful. “Is that necessarily a bad thing?”

“It’s not, until something crazy happens and then I can’t think straight." She gestured at the room. "Case in point, five minutes ago. And when you were in that mountain- it was like I couldn’t breathe, Bellamy. And _I_ sent you there,” she burst out.

“Hey, come on. We both were ready to do anything we could to get our people out of that place. One of us was always going to end up inside.”

“I know that. I just… it should have been both of us. I can’t believe I-” Her breath hitched. "I know what we had to do. I know our roles. It's just..." she repeated the same thought that always rolled around in her head. “I can’t lose you, too.”

“Who says you will?” Bellamy lifted her face to his with a gentle hand. “Clarke, we’ve survived Grounders, Reapers, Mountain Men… hell, when we make it out of here we’re likely going to end up at a _wedding.”_ He didn’t have to specify whose - she already knew. The smile tugged at Clarke’s face before she could stop it. 

Bellamy’s grip was warm and his voice steady. “Through everything, we’ve come back to each other. I’ll always come back to you, Clarke.”

She was desperate to believe him, but still her mind intervened. “You can’t know that.”

“But I do,” he said solemnly. “I’ve been told I have a very stubborn mindset.” He smiled. “Call it faith.”

“In what?”

Bellamy leaned closer, and when she didn’t back away, he brushed his lips over her cheek. “In you, remember?” he murmured. “In us.”

A tear slipped out before Clarke could blink it away, but he kissed that just as gently. Then he raised his bound arms over his head, and after just a moment she slipped under the circle of them, letting him gather her close. Curling her fingers into his shirt, she laid her cheek against his broad chest. He stroked her hair, his long fingers soothing through the strands. His heartbeat was strong and steady against her ear.

After a few minutes, Clarke sighed and looked up at him. “I just need some time.”

Bellamy nodded. He understood her. He always did. “Whatever you want.” She smiled in thanks before dropping her head to his chest again. “Just one thing,” he requested.

“Hmm?”

“Next time, give me some kind of warning so I can kiss you back properly instead of standing there like a moron.”

Clarke laughed, feeling her heart lighten a little bit. She squeezed him tighter. “I’ll try. No promises.”

~~~~~~~

They remained wound together until the first boom shook the ground beneath their feet. Bellamy stiffened and brought her with him as he stood. “What the f-”

Another boom, and they lurched against the wall. Clarke heard him groan and looked up, seeing a grimace twist his face. “What happened? Are you hurt?” Urgently, she took his face in her hands, bringing it inches from hers. 

“Yeah princess, I got thrown into the wall,” he muttered gruffly, but his eyes seemed too busy fixating on her own. His mouth was _right there,_ and if she just leaned in… _No! Focus!_ Clarke shook her head and released him just as heavy footsteps sounded in the hall. They both tensed and turned towards the door, only to have whoever it was fly right by. Faint yells reached their ears.

“What the hell is going on?” She breathed. Bellamy shrugged and took a few steps towards the door with her right behind him.

At the sound of the horn, they both halted. Bellamy’s sharp laugh echoed off the walls. “Reinforcements,” he grinned wickedly and she lost her breath, a little too captivated by the sight of it. Shivers of the good kind shot down her spine.

Thankfully, new movement at the door stopped her from doing anything stupid. Keys jiggled into the lock, and Bellamy moved to block her body with his at the same time that she tried to do the same. They needn’t have bothered. When the door opened, she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Lincoln.”

The man gave her a small grin, as if he always expected to find her here, and nodded at Bellamy. “Time to go.”

Bellamy held out his bound hands. “A little help?” As Lincoln cut the ropes, Bellamy asked, “Where’s O?”

“Distracting the others. Harper and Jasper are with her.” He led them into the hallway, then turned left. “This way. We’ll meet up with them afterwards.”

Turning the corner, they were met with three very pissed off guards. Bellamy cracked his knuckles, a grim smile curling his lips. “Can’t say I won’t enjoy this.”

He and Lincoln moved forward, and over his shoulder Clarke caught him mouthing _run_ to her. Her eyes narrowed. _Yeah, right._ Like she was going anywhere without him. While they grappled with the guards, she eased to the side and looked for an opening. Lincoln and his man had both drawn weapons and were moving down the hall. That left Bellamy with two very eager men. Neither of them was paying attention to her. 

Big mistake.

Coming up behind one, Clarke slammed her foot into the back of his knee, throwing a right hook at his head as he stumbled to the floor. Before he could react, she was on top of him, having found a particular spot between his neck and shoulder and pinching down _hard._ He was out in seconds. Clambering off, she found the other guard down as well. Bellamy was breathing heavily, staring at her with a mix of wonder and admiration. 

“Where’d you learn to do that?” He asked. His voice was low, husky, and _shit_ her blood was singing and she wanted him more than ever.

“Don’t worry. I’ll teach you later,” she grinned.

His face split into a smile as he barked out a laugh. Lincoln reappeared, blood spattering his face but otherwise unhurt. Without thinking, Clarke grabbed Bellamy’s hand, and they ran.

They exited the small compound from what looked like a back entrance. Lincoln moved with a surety that told her he’d been here before - which meant he and the others had been nearby, scouting for days, planning an attack. Clarke felt a fierce pride at the thought. They followed Lincoln into the trees, skirting the edges of the camp to the sounds of arrows flying and cut off shouting. 

She had only a moment to register Lincoln hissing “Down!” before Bellamy pulled her into a crouch, his arm a tight band around her back. They stayed low for what felt like forever. Every breath she took sounded too loud. The skin peeking out from Bellamy’s collar was soaked in sweat; his heart thundered under her ear. Looking up, she found his eyes roaming through the brush, his expression filled with a familiar determination. The well of emotion that sprung up within her then was surprising only in its intensity, a relentless clamor of just how deeply this boy had managed to wind his way into her heart.

It had taken her so long to see it, or even acknowledge it, but she was damn well done with that.

~~~~~~~

Bellamy strained to figure out what Lincoln had heard, frustrated when the signal to move didn’t come quickly. Unconsciously, he tightened his grip on Clarke. 

The soft touch of lips on his cheek was the last thing he expected - so when it happened he almost thought it was a dream, until he looked down and found Clarke watching him with such open devotion that the question got stuck in his throat. She smiled, watery but genuine, and hugged her arms around his waist. He wondered if that meant what he thought it did. All he could do was return the embrace and silently promise that when they were finally free of this shit, he’d do a hell of a lot more than hold her.

Lincoln’s sharp order finally came several minutes later, and they were moving again, his hand tightly wrapped in hers. They stumbled down an incline, crossed a creek, then wound through more trees until Lincoln held up a hand to stop. Bellamy watched as he cupped his hands around his mouth, making some kind of bird call through his fingers.

A moment later, the call was returned from the east. Lincoln grinned and motioned to them. “They’re all here.”

Pushing through the brush, he had mere seconds to register several grateful faces before Octavia bounded up and wrapped him in a fierce hug. “Took you long enough,” she said, and he huffed out a laugh against her hair. 

Over her shoulder, his eyes locked onto Clarke. Her wide eyes gazed back, like she was afraid to blink in case he disappeared. She was still holding his hand. She realized it the same moment he did and began to pull away, but his fingers tightened over hers.

His sister drew back and set her hands on her hips. “You scared us to death, Bell,” she accused.

Bellamy felt his mouth curve up despite everything. “Sorry,” he said dryly.

“You should be. I was worried sick.” 

“Lucky for you I wasn’t alone,” he smiled and looked over to blue eyes that suddenly wouldn’t meet his. In spite of the group, he tried to tug her closer. Clarke refused to look up. 

In trying to avoid him, her gaze landed on Octavia instead. Her mouth opened and closed, seemingly unable to form the words she wanted. He knew, from his sister, just how deep their argument had hit, but seeing the full force of it on Clarke’s face made something unpleasant twist in his stomach. He didn’t know if he could live with the two most important people in his life not being able to face each other.

Octavia took in everything in a quick glance, from Clarke’s expression to his own rising doubt. But when she lingered on their joined hands with a raised eyebrow, a small twitch of her lips gave her away. The breath left him in a rush. _Thank god._

“Octavia, I…” Clarke’s quiet voice made them both look back at her. “I- You’re bleeding,” she said suddenly.

Bellamy narrowed in on the dark stain on his sister’s calf. Octavia grunted and tried to wave them off, but couldn’t quite hide her slight limp. That was all it took for Lincoln to sweep her up, ignoring her protests as he looked to Clarke for instructions. Clarke’s hesitance disappeared, a familiar bossiness settling over her features that made Bellamy smile to himself.

He didn’t miss how Harper squeezed her shoulder, or how Monty settled next to her with a bright smile, or even how Jasper hovered and offered extra water and cloth when she needed it. And when her eyes caught his in a brief moment, she couldn’t hide how grateful she was to have been welcomed back.

He sighed. Only _she_ would have ever expected otherwise.

~~~~~~~

They’d only been traveling for half a day when the skies opened and unleashed a torrent of water. Cursing, Bellamy shook hair and water from his eyes as the rain continued to pour in sheets. The wind lashed every which way, violently whipping through tree branches and making him long for his jacket. He and Jasper had left the group only an hour back to scout in opposite directions, checking for any signs that they were being followed. 

Now, the wind buffeted him with every step as he hurried back. He could only pray that everyone had managed to set up their tents amid the storm. As their small campsite came into view, he caught sight of blonde hair and immediately changed direction. 

Emerging from the trees, he found Clarke standing alone in the rain, her arms spread wide and palms up. Her eyes were closed, her face turned up to the sky. Like him, she’d gotten rid of her outer layers, leaving her in a dark tank and jeans. Her blonde locks were plastered to her skin, and her clothes clung to her in a way that made his heart speed up frantically.

She was smiling in a way he rarely saw anymore; like for a moment she could finally set down the burden on her shoulders. Like she could breathe again.

She was just a girl, standing in the rain on Earth, and he was the boy who loved her.

Bellamy stood captivated by the sight. A smile stretched across his face so hard he thought it might split open. He didn’t know how much time passed as he simply watched her. When Clarke finally opened her eyes, blinking against the downpour, her gaze found his. But she wasn’t sheepish or concerned or even shy.

She was at peace.

A flash of lightning illuminated the sky above, startling them both. Then a giggle reached his ears. Startled, Bellamy realized it belonged to Clarke. God, he’d _missed_ that sound. Clarke held her arms out to him. His feet moved without a thought, and then he’d wrapped her in a hug so tight he didn't know where he ended and she began. Closing his eyes, he sighed. Clarke rose to her tiptoes, nuzzling his shoulder as her arms enfolded him just as fiercely. They stood in the rain for a long time, just content to hold each other.

It was only a particularly loud clap of thunder that made them both jump. Grinning, Clarke withdrew her arms and headed for the tent he assumed was hers, but he remained frozen until she stopped and threw a glance over her shoulder. Bellamy suddenly couldn’t move fast enough.

Ducking inside, he shook the water from his hair like a wet dog. Clarke stood within arm’s length, still smiling that wonderful, hopeful smile. His eyes followed a water droplet that curved over her cheek and slipped down her neck into the hollow of her throat. It was all he could do not to take her into his arms again, but he needed it to be her choice.

He had to know she was okay with this, because once it started, he was never letting go.

Clarke reached out and hooked her fingers around his belt loop, drawing him closer and sending his heart into a spiral. His hand ghosted over the bare skin of her arm, trailing up to her shoulder before settling in the curve of her neck. Her gaze kept drifting to his mouth, and when her tongue peeked out to wet her lips, Bellamy was helpless to do much else but chase it back inside her mouth.

They crashed together, lips sliding and hands wandering. Clarke kissed him deeply and without hesitation, and his heart leapt at her wordless reassurance that she wanted this just as much as he did. His lips trailed down her jaw, tasting the rainwater that had mingled with her skin. She sighed his name and slipped curious hands under his shirt, hands that teased and pressed and _dear, god_ scratched.

He broke away to breathe and simultaneously get rid of the layers between them, but suddenly Clarke’s palm covered his mouth, her gaze darting to the front of the tent. “I think I heard something.”

_“Seriously?”_

Her eyes glimmered in amusement. “No. Just wanted to see if you were that gullible,” she laughed and wiggled her eyebrows.

Bellamy’s mouth dropped open. With an affronted growl, he claimed her smiling lips with a renewed intensity. His hand snuck under her shirt to splay on her bare back, drawing her flush against him. Clarke murmured wordlessly and hooked an arm around his neck, pulling herself to her tiptoes. 

It took some effort to pull away when he did, but it was well worth it to see her swollen lips, pink as the flush that had traveled over her skin. He decided he wanted to make that a more permanent sight. Clarke’s hands tried to urge him back, but he grinned and purposely slowed their pace, touching his lips to her jaw instead. Lazily, he nibbled a path to her ear, where he lingered. A tiny moan drifted from her mouth as her back arched, and he smiled victoriously.

“Bellamy,” she gritted out. Chuckling, he raised his head to meet her impatient gaze.

“I told you I’ve thought about this,” he murmured. “And seeing as a storm is literally raging outside, I’m going to take my time. Do this right.” He grinned slyly, kissing the corner of her mouth. “I don’t exactly plan on moving for the next few hours. Do you?”

Clarke shook her head frantically and brought his mouth back to hers.

~~~~~~~

She barely even felt it when Bellamy lowered her to the bedroll; her entire being was so consumed by the feeling of him surrounding her. The unyielding weight of his body; the musky scent of him, leather and pine invading her senses; the gentle caress of his hands and lips setting fire to her nerves. There were all sorts of sounds escaping her throat, no doubt stroking his ego to the fullest, but she couldn’t exactly bother to stop them. He was being infuriatingly patient, but even more overwhelming was how his every touch seem to brand a new promise into her skin. 

It was like he was telling her to finally give in, to let herself open again, to let him catch her when she inevitably fell. He was reminding her she wasn’t alone.

 _I don't know how he does it,_ she thought idly. _But I never want him to stop._

Just then, Bellamy paused where he’d been softly tracing a scar over her stomach. When she cracked her eyes open, she found him silently staring back.

“What?” She asked. His hand came up to cradle her cheek, his thumb catching a tear that had slipped out unknowingly. “Oh,” she mumbled. “God, sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

Bellamy’s mouth cut her off, sweet and coaxing, his arms coming around her back and reversing their positions. When they finally broke apart, he smiled. “It’s alright,” he murmured. “I missed you too.”

Clarke smiled back wide enough to make her cheeks ache, dropping her forehead to his for a moment. His hand stroked up and down her back. Slowly, she began pressing light kisses to every part of him she could reach, until she had no choice but to fit her lips to his once more, letting the salt mix in with the rainwater as she kissed him long and hard.

~~~~~~~

Two nights later, Clarke settled down by the dying fire for her watch. They were all so tired they’d given up on tents today, content to simply sprawl around the embers until the sun came up. Idly, her fingers stroked through Bellamy’s soft curls where he lay stretched out next to her. They’d been all but inseparable ever since the storm, and she was more than okay with it.

“There's no getting rid of him now, you know.” 

Her head snapped to her right, finding Octavia lounging on her elbows, wide awake. There wasn’t judgment in her voice, just firm certainty. Clarke swallowed. _What makes you think I want to?_

Instead, she asked, “Does that bother you?” 

Octavia snorted. “Like that matters.” 

“Octavia, I’m serious.” Clarke steadily met her gaze. “You know I wouldn’t continue this if you asked me not to.”

The other girl studied her, then offered a ghost of a smile. “Yeah. I know. Which is why I’m not going to ask you that.” She sat up and fixed her with a hard look. “What I do want to know is if you’re planning on leaving us behind again.”

“Octavia-”

“How many times do I have to tell you this?” Octavia grasped her hand. “You might think the weight of the world is on your shoulders, but that’s an old way of thinking. That’s a _Council_ way of thinking.” Clarke looked away at the reprimand, but Octavia wasn’t done. “We’re all right here, Clarke. And we’re stronger than you think. You can lean on us.”

“I thought you and I were _done,”_ she muttered, unable to hide the note of bitterness in her voice. “Isn’t that what you said?”

“I didn’t-” The denial cut off quickly. “I was caught up during the battle, I’ll admit it. I know this is hard for you to understand, but I wanted so badly to belong somewhere, Clarke. We grew up so differently. I’ve never felt like I was part of _anything_ before, and I finally thought I’d found my place. And yeah, I couldn’t… I couldn’t come to grips with what you’d done either. But I was wrong to think it didn’t cost you.”

Silently, she stared at the flames flickering in the dark. There was nothing to say to that. She’d made her choices, and she’d have to live with them.

“When everything went to hell, I was alone again,” Octavia whispered. “I don’t feel like I belong anywhere, and that scares me.”

That, Clarke did understand all too well. She flipped her hand palm up, reassured when their fingers linked together. “Maybe we can both work on finding our place again.”

Octavia sent her a real smile. “I’d like that. Though wherever that ends up being, you’ll probably have to make sure there’s room for two.” At her puzzled look, Octavia nodded towards her sleeping brother. “He's even more stubborn than I am.”

Clarke allowed herself a small laugh, hanging her head in acknowledgment. With a quiet sigh, she said, “I'm not going anywhere without him. Without any of you.”

“I think that’s news only to you,” Octavia replied, and they both grinned in the darkness.

~~~~~~~

The next evening, Bellamy stood and stretched as the others began to pack up the small campsite.

“Big brother, go get your girlfriend,” Octavia called. There were several hastily muffled snorts as her words echoed in the air.

Unable to help his loopy grin, he gave her a small shove all the same before wandering off. Octavia had known all too well that he’d been awake while she and Clarke had talked. He was almost positive that was why she’d chosen that moment to begin the conversation - and what a way to do it, no less. She could be a downright bratty little sister sometimes. 

Despite that, he was unbearably happy at the fact that the two of them had started down the road to reconciliation. It would be bumpy, but then so was everything. Not to mention that Clarke’s quiet admission had been playing in his head repeatedly ever since.

He found Clarke leaning against a tree trunk as she looked up at the sky. Settling next to her with a brush of their shoulders, he followed her gaze to the red and orange shades that were taking over as the sun began its descent.

“Your sister has a big mouth,” she said eventually.

Bellamy grinned, knowing she’d heard the girlfriend comment. “No argument here.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “How much did you hear?” At his look, she lifted an eyebrow. “I know you were awake last night. Octavia’s not as subtle as she thinks she is.”

 _Oh. Shit._ Overcoming his nerves, he tried to shrug casually. “Enough to know you two are going to be okay.”

“That’s it?”

Feeling cheeky, he turned towards her. “Why? Something you want to tell me, princess?” He laughed at the smile that played on her lips, opening his arms. “Come here, Clarke.” 

She embraced him at once, her head tucked under his chin and her hands sliding around to his back under his jacket. He rested his cheek atop her hair with a contented sigh.

“I meant what I said,” Clarke mumbled eventually. "You're stuck with me now."

“Wouldn't have it any other way.”

Clarke drew back to look up at him. Her hand traced along his jaw, brushing across the freckles on his cheek, before slowly following the curve of his mouth. Their lips fitted together with ease, lacking any urgency that seemed to be so present in every other facet of their life. This moment was quiet and soft and unhurried, and it was _theirs._ It was impossible for him to concentrate on anything but her hand sliding into his hair, the small sigh she gave as his tongue swept over the seam of her lips.

A piercing whistle echoed in the air.

Startled, they pulled apart to see two very mischievous grins directed their way. Bellamy gave a strangled laugh and leaned back against the tree as Clarke tucked her face into his shirt. 

“Hate to break this up,” Octavia chirped, “but we have to go if we’re going to make it back to camp before nightfall.”

“We’ll meet you lovebirds at the creek,” Harper laughed. They high-fived and practically skipped away.

“Since when are they such good friends?” Clarke grumbled. Bellamy laughed again and drew her face back up to his for a lingering kiss. Her cheeks were stained his favorite lovely pink when he finally pulled back. _Yeah, I could totally get used to that._

“I guess we should go,” she said.

He shook his head and dipped to kiss the underside of her jaw, which he’d quickly discovered was a weak spot. Grinning, he reveled in her small gasp as her hands clutched at his shoulders.

“Bellamy…” She twisted her head with a smile and kissed him again before stepping out of the circle of his arms. “Come on, you.”

He pouted but took her outstretched hand, their fingers weaving together without a second thought. They only let go when they had to gather their things. 

His sister sidled up to him, grinning from ear to ear. “Shut up,” he said fondly.

“I said nothing,” she replied innocently, batting her eyelashes. Bellamy ruffled her hair with a short laugh. She looped an arm around him tight for a moment. “Good for you,” came her soft whisper.

As their small group left, Clarke drifted to the rear to walk with him. Bellamy draped an arm over her shoulders; she beamed and slid her arm around his waist, leaning up to kiss him softly before her head dropped to his shoulder. They walked like that the rest of the way.

~~~~~~~

Clarke wasn’t sure what to expect when the camp came into sight, but she certainly didn’t think her heart would be thumping quite so loudly enough to practically announce their arrival. As if Bellamy could hear it, his thumb rubbed patterns into her shoulder, trying to ease her nerves. She took in the walls surrounding the perimeter, the half-finished structures peeking out overtop, the general bustle coming from within. Her throat clogged with unexpected tears.

 _Home._ That’s what it would always be to her - because of the people waiting within; because of the boy standing by her side. 

The others moved more quickly, hurrying inside the gate without hesitation. Clarke’s footsteps slowed until she was at a complete stop, still several feet away. In awe, she tried to take in everything all at once and only ended up hearing the way her heart was ringing in her ears.

Bellamy waited, a hand outstretched. His expression was carefully neutral, giving no hint to his thoughts. She knew it was on purpose - knew he wanted her to make the call, her to decide if this time, she’d return with him instead of walking away. 

Clarke smiled, lifted her hands to his cheeks, and kissed him under the bright midday sun. Then she placed her hand in his.


End file.
